silent screaming

Original date 6 January 2012

I wrote this a few months ago and haven't looked at it since then. I've noticed that the last few days I've been taking sleeping pills again so maybe re-reading this and getting it out of me will allow me to sleep again.

It started when the doctor told me it was over. I was sitting next to his bed when he died. It was loud. It was hysterical. It was guttural. It was primal.

It continued as I left him lying there. It went on for a long time before I wore myself out. It stopped long enough to listen to the preacher at his funeral and to listen to Taps and the Marines thanking me for his service.

It stopped long enough so I could figure out what to do next. To search everyone's faces to hear them say, "Oh, sorry, we made a mistake. He's not dead. He's at the hospital waiting for you."

I'm screaming in my head.  "HE'S DEAD. DEAD. DEAD."

It doesn't stop while I talk to other people. It doesn't stop when I drink water. It doesn't stop when I take a shower. It doesn't stop when I stare at the food people put in front of me that I'm forced to eat.

And it doesn't stop when I sleep.

It didn't stop for the first six months.